Compunctum
by doiteain
Summary: This is the story, told to a mildly unwilling grandson-in-law, of the pirate captain Romulus Cesare, the infamous and coldhearted Mortale Cesare, and how he came to be known as the great military leader Giulio Vargas, and eventually as "Nonno." But, more importantly to Antonio, this story might just tell him why Lovi's nonno hates him so much. Rated for language and some violence.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

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Giulio Vargas knew he should have been happy. His nipotini were happily married (and only one of them to a nothus). And now he would be a bisnonno!

Lovina and her nothus retired from piracy less than a year ago once she was with child (that stupid nothus). Giulio had received a letter from Feli only a couple of days ago saying that Lovina and the nothus' child was born, but she did not give any more information. Feli said it was going to be a surprise.

Giulio did not particularly like surprises, but he always was prepared to face them—it must be from his military career. He would be happy if it was a boy or a girl. There was one thing Giulio worried about: that the child might be too much like him.

He understood that it was unlikely. There were three generations between the child and him, but the idea still worried him to the bone.

Giulio knocked on the door and shortly afterward the nothus opened the door.

"Hello, old bastard."

"Hello, filthy asshole."

"How is Lovina?"

"She was well before you came."

"Antonio," a voice called from down the hall. "Who is it?"

"The old b—I mean, your Nonno."

"Then send him in, idiota."

The nothus allowed Giulio inside and led him to the room Lovina was inside. The nothus kissed her on the temple.

Giulio stepped forward. "How are you, piccina?" And then he froze.

In Lovina's arms were twin infant boys.

**^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^**

Antonio glared at the old bastard. Why did Lovi's nonno have to be here? He and Lovi were perfectly happy with their two sons before the old bastard came (they were still deciding on the names. The one that looked like Lovi was probably going to be Aurelio, but Lovi wanted to name the other one (who was just as wonderful) after the old fuckface).

Antonio sighed. Lovi always wanted her nonno and he to get along, so he would have to try. "Can I help you with anything?"

The old bastard looked at him. "May I have a word with you?"

Lovi looked between the two of them, with the twins still in her arms.

"Sí." Antonio led the asshole into another room.

"This is entirely your fault," Giulio growled.

Antonio crossed his arms. "What is?"

The old bastard started pacing and muttering under his breath. "Of course. Of course. Out of all of the possibilities, this had to happen… Twins! Twin boys!" he glared at Antonio. "I blame you."

Antonio threw his arms up in the air. "What do you even blame me for?"

"I blame you for everything that is wrong right now."

"What _is_ wrong?"

The old bastard's eyes narrowed. "You don't have a right to know."

"Why do you hate me so much?" It was more an accusation than anything else.

"What's going on?" Lovi called from the other room.

"Nothing, mi querida~" Antonio answered. He turned back to face her nonno.

"Because you're a filthy pirate bastard."

"I've retired!"

"You think that changes anything?" The old bastard narrowed his eyes. "I know all about your kind. They never change."

"What makes you so sure?" Antonio asked. "I've changed for Lovi."

"People can't change so drastically so soon."

"But what about you?" Antonio challenged. "I know you were il Mortale Cesare, the ruler of the seas, but then you became a part of the military, right? Didn't you change?"

Giulio snorted. "Don't believe change is so simple, because it's not."

"Then why don't you explain?"

"It's a long story."

"I can listen to the entire thing," Antonio insisted.

The old man stopped to think for a while. "…Fine. But we'll need alcohol, and a place away from Lovina. There are some things that I do not want her to know."

"And the alcohol?"

"What do you think it's for, idiota? Drawing up the buried memories."

Antonio's brow furrowed slightly. He walked into the room that Lovi was in. "Your nonno and I our going out, mi amor, will you be alright on your own with the boys?"

She nodded. "Si, but where are you two going?"

"To talk, and maybe to get a drink or two."

Lovi gave him a look. "Do you promise not to kill each other or to try to kill each other?"

Antonio grinned. "You have no need to worry, mi todo." He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

Her face flared. "J-just go already!"

He laughed. "Your wish is my command, Lovi~"

After one stonily silent walk to the local bar, the old bastard was already on his fifth glass of rum.

Antonio took a sip of his (he was still on his first). "Are you going to tell me anything, or did we just come here so you can replace all your innards with rum?"

Giulio snorted. "Please. In my younger days I could've drunk this stuff like water."

"Could have?"

"It doesn't mean I did," the bastard retorted. "I had to stay sharp at all times. Even when I was flat on my ass drunk I had to be in complete control." He sighed. "One of the lower costs of ruling the seas."

"And there were other higher ones?"

"I'm getting there," the old man snapped. He stopped to think. "How shall I start?"

"I would assume with the beginning."

Giulio gave him a look (ah, that was where Lovi got it from). "If you keep being a smart ass, I'll tell Lovina that you want to replace all of your tomato gardens with rotten potatoes, because you like them better."

Antonio raised his hands and gestured to show his silence.

The old bastard nodded. "That's more fucking like it. I suppose I should first tell you that my name is not Giulio Vargas, but rather Romulus Cesare." He downed the rest of his glass and ordered another. He leaned back into his chair and mumbled under his breath. "Now where was I born..?"

Antonio sighed and downed his glass as well. Just what exactly was he getting himself into?

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**A/N: And here is the beginning of my pirate!Rome! Finally! (This took too long). But, now that it is officially started, I should be better about actually writing it.  
**

**For those of you who would like to know, this story is set about two years after one of my pirate!Spain, "Of Pirates and CrossDressing Runaways," even though the actual story (Giulio's) happens before. This one should make sense without having read the other, but if something seems strange, feel free to ask me for an explanation! (Or you could read the other one, that would be cool, too).**

**Thank you in advance to everyone who favorites, follows, or reviews! These things are more awesome than Prussia's awesome broom-guitar skills!  
**


	2. Rancid Little Province

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

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Giulio (or was he Romulus? Antonio wasn't quite sure what to call him anymore) took his new drink from the bartender. "I grew up in a rather small, rotting port town in a very far away land. There was a more respectable city only a short way down the coast, but our little town attracted the less desirable ships and businesses." He took a swig. "Technically, I lived with my mother and brother."

"Technically?" Antonio asked.

"Yes, _technically_. Meaning, if I were to go home back then, I would go to them, but I almost never did." He gestured with his free hand. "At first, I was one of the many delinquents in the town, even though I was only five. I'd pickpocket the travelers or steal some food, nothing too out of the ordinary. The soldiers took to catching me because I was easy; I was only a little kid after all. They'd snatch me up, beat me, and tell me to run home before I caused any more trouble or before they changed their minds. And I'd slink off, poking and prodding at my own wounds, while trying to figure out how I could beat those soldiers, how I could win." The old bastard smirked. "Eventually, by the time I was eight or nine, I had already moved onto bigger offences. I'd steal goods from right under the merchants' big noses, I'd help hide away the murderers, bandits, and thugs, and I'm pretty sure I had killed a man—oh no, wait. That was when I was ten. And the soldiers tried to catch me even more than when I was younger, not because I was an easy catch, but because I was the hardest. I knew every getaway route, every alleyway, every way to every rooftop, and every beggar that might stick his foot out as the soldiers ran by or give false directions as to which way I went. You could call me the prince of thieves, I suppose, the princeling of my own rancid, little province."

Antonio blinked. Could all of that really have happened to the old bastard at such a young age? "You mentioned you had a family," he said. "What about them?"

Giulio sighed. "My brother, Remus, was a genuine idealistic idiot. He was always helping our poor mother and went to Mass every Sunday and every feast day." He cleared his throat and clapped his hands together. "Our father, who taught some faith, hated be his name. He abandoned our mother, to follow his will, to the very depths of hell." He took another swig. "Or something like that. Remus was never too successful whenever he tried to teach me how to pray."

Antonio raised an eyebrow. "I would assume you didn't get along well with him?" It would make sense after all. From the sound of it, the old bastard and his brother were entirely opposites.

Giulio laughed. "We hated each other! Not that Remus would ever admit it. He always tried to 'stay above such things.'" He snorted. "Sometimes I think that he always tried to be so good to compensate for me, but then again Remus was always the twin with the better moral compass."

The Spaniard started. "You're twins?"

"Didn't I already say that?" Giulio snapped. "But, yes, we were identical twins. He was even just as talented of a fighter as I was, but he wanted to use it for _good_, and _help_ people. Maybe even become a general in the military." He rolled his eyes. "That should give you an idea of just how different we were. Part of why I never went home as a child was because I didn't want to be compared to him, but it was mostly because I didn't want to hear his preaching about hopes and dreams and the _good_ in people."

The old bastard sighed. "I'm sure that you're wondering how through all of my street urchin days I became a pirate."

Antonio nodded. Thieves and bandits normally didn't mix well with pirates. Unless everyone involved _happened_ to be working together towards the same goal (this was rather unlikely). Or if they all were very drunk.

The corners of Giulio's lips curved up slightly into a small almost-smile. "It happened when I was thirteen." He looked at Antonio. "That's one of the prime ages for someone to be overly confident." He polished off his rum and ordered another.

**^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^**

Romulus peered over the tall coil of rope in the shipyard and watched as the remaining crewmen left the ship. There shouldn't be any left by now other than the one lookout in the crow's nest and the other at the prow. After looking around once more to make sure that no one else was leaving or doubling back, Romulus snuck over to the side of the ship while the lookout on deck was on the starboard side. The portholes were just low enough for him to reach (there must be plenty of goods onboard for the ship to sit so low). He pulled himself up and through one of them and smirked triumphantly to himself. He looked around.

There was nothing in here other than barrels of water, some food, ammunitions, and gunpowder. He could probably sell a keg of the gunpowder for a pretty penny, but it would be a bother to get one off the ship without being seen.

Romulus made his way across the storage room and looked out of the keyhole. There was no one in the hallway. He picked the lock, opened the door, and stepped out into the open. Romulus looked into all of the different doors as he went, but there was nothing of any _real_ value. He could just steal some money, but he could steal that from anyone who had some—hell, he could even cheat people out of money they'd never get to have.

Romulus reached another locked door (another storeroom?) and peered through the keyhole. The captain's office! He quickly picked the lock and opened the door (shit, it squeaked a bit. He'd have to leave it open to keep from making noise). He stashed away an eyeglass, a weighing scale, a fine looking dagger, and even a decorated, locked box.

Suddenly, he dropped his loot and everything went black.

Romulus slowly woke up to the throbbing in the back of his head. He could feel his ankles and wrists were tied together. The floor underneath him was rocking—the bastards must have already left port! His eyes snapped open and Romulus glared at the man watching him.

He looked to be in his late twenties and had dark auburn hair; he had a dark, luxurious blue coat. It was covered in barely visible blood stains but there were so many that they looked as if they were a part of the fabric itself. He was seated behind the captain's desk with the almost-stolen objects laid out in front of him. He cracked a wolfish smile. "Sleep well? You were out for more than a day."

Romulus' glare intensified.

"Head hurt?"

Romulus refused to respond.

The captain chuckled darkly. "That is what you get from trying to steal from me."

"And who are you?"

"Me?" the captain asked. "I am Pirate Captain Evander Vargas of _The Istria_. And, partly as just a fraction of your total punishment and partly because the last one either died or ran off, you will be my new cabin boy."

Romulus' glare returned (but he knew better than to start fighting in his current state against (the definitely _not_ intimidating) Captain Vargas).

Captain Vargas laughed. "You will begin your duties later today. But by no means are you allowed to write any letters home to your family to tell them what has happened. You are not allowed near my messenger bird at any time." And with that, the Captain left the room.

Romulus glared daggers all along the captain's path. How he wished that looks could kill. He would show him. Hell, he would even send _two_ letters home with the messenger bird. Just to spite that stupid, fucking Vargas.

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**A/N: I'm back~**

**Here is the next chapter and essentially Giulio's younger days and how he came to be a pirate.**

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, or reviewed! They make me as happy as Canada would be if Kumawhatzit could remember who he was~ (At least once?)  
**


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